Month: May 2010

“Well, Pimp Daddy asked me where I wanted to go and I told him the Cracker Barrel. He was not happy with that choice. He said he needed to go somewhere that had a bar. He wanted a drink. I pulled out my flask and told him no problem, but I wanted to go to the Cracker Barrel. Well, we got to the Barrel, and I went to the gift store while PD got a table. I loaded up on 4 cases of white birch beer, and a chicken that plays the chicken dance, while it is choking its ass off. I told the gal to bring the merchandise to our table.”

“I bet that went over like a lead balloon.”

“Ya, PD asked me if I had developed brain damage since I retired. Like who buys 4 cases of birch beer. I told him to shut the hell up and have a drink. But he was not amused.”

“Nice start, eh?”

“And then we ordered lunch. I ordered a hot fudge sundae for an appetizer. PD spit out his spiked water and gave me the weirdest look. Then I said, I might have an apple dumpling, later, but for lunch, I would like mac and cheese, fried apples, grits and a well done burger, with swiss cheese. PD ordered a ham sandwich and soup.”

“Boring. No imagination whatsoever.”

“I told the waitress it was my birthday, so I could get a free dessert. And a group of waitresses came over and sang to me. One of them smelled booze and asked PD if he was drinking. He denied it, but being the honest woman I am, I fessed up and told her that he had a flask and was boozing.”

“NO!!”

“Yes, I did. And they threw us out. And told PD that it was against the law to bring liquor into the restaurant and he would be black balled. So I demurely asked the girls if that included me, or just the criminal, and they assured me that I would always be welcome. And gave me advice: They said I should not be hanging out with riffraff, and to steer clear of his kind. Of course I thanked them profusely.”

“Oh my God.”

“PD was mad as a wet hen, and he developed a hernia, carrying my birch beer to his car. So he was not one bit talkative on the way back to the home. He dropped me off and mumbled something about never coming back to see me, as long as he lived. And took off.”

“Knock it off Wolf. It actually was ok….. Except for a few minor mishaps.”

“Oh?”

“Yea, I took him on a tour of the Home and introduced him to a few people, including Pat, who immediately put the make on him. She wanted to know who the hunk was, and I said, “Huh? What hunk? I haven’t seen a hunk around here since I moved in.”

“Wrong thing to say.”

“Yes, I have never thought of P Daddy as a hunk. I only thought of him as a boss. So, after PD got miffed at me, I told him I was just kidding and that he is quite the hunk, for an older gentleman.”

“Wrong thing again.”

“No kidding. He said, “Older gentleman? I hate to mention it Minnie, but you are no spring chicken. Actually you aren’t even a fall chicken.”

“The nerve of him!”

“Well, I blew it off and asked him if he wanted to sit outside in the garden, and we walked out back. Unfortunately, George and Frank were out there in their speedos, weeding. Now, you know what those two look like dressed, but to see two 80 year old goofs on their knees in the garden with those ridiculous speedos was an appalling sight.”

“Ha!”

“Then Ms Barkley came out to feed the birds and Felix, her parakeet was with her, sitting on her shoulder, and he flew over to PD and… and… well, he pooped on him. Right on his head. P Daddy was sitting there talking, not knowing that his slightly balding head had a white blotch on it. Well, I started laughing my ass off. And he asked me what was so funny. I didn’t want to embarrass him, so I said, “Oh, I am just being silly. I guess we should go back in. I am pooped. I mean tired.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“No. And when we went back inside, and we ran into our Director, I introduced him and she kept looking at his head. She finally said, “Oh, I see you ran into Ms Barkley and Felix. PD looked slightly confused and said, “Felix? Who is that? And I couldn’t help myself. I said, “He’s the one who pooped on your head.”

“Ha Ha Ha.”

“P Daddy put his hand on his head and gave me the dirtiest look. He was pissed. He immediately excused himself and went into the men’s room. Only, as you know, we don’t have a men’s room. We have a universal room, and there were a group of ladies in there, who screamed when they saw him, and ran out yelling, “There’s a guy in the bathroom with poop on his head.”

“Minnie, Minnie, Minnie. What a hoot.”

“PD came out a few minutes later, cleaned up and said, “Ok, Minnie. I don’t know why, but I am taking you to lunch.” “And that is another story.”

Share this:

Like this:

“I just got a call from Pimp Daddy. Oh my God. He is on vacation and is stopping by to see me.”

“Pimp Daddy? I thought your Daddy was dead.”

“No no no. Pimp Daddy is my old boss, when I worked for the Mozzarella Insurance Company.”

“Old boss? How old is he?”

“Oh I guess about 40-ish now.”

“What the hell? Was he 12 years old when he was your boss? And what’s with the name? Pimp Daddy? Good grief. You had a pimp for a boss?”

“It’s a long story, but he is stopping by today. I need to get gussied up.”

“Well. I hate to tell you, but there ain’t much you can do about getting gussied up. But we could get some blue dye and get those roots colored. And I have a new mu-mu you can wear. It’s one size fits all, and is done in an elephant motif.”

“Too late. Look!! He is here. Oh no. and I look so awful.”

“Don’t be silly. He will never notice that you look like crap. He is here to visit. And he knows what you look like. So cheer up.”

“When I introduce him to you, don’t mention anything about Pimp Daddy, OK? It was just a nickname, and I never really called him that to his face. His real name is Richard Dick.”

“No way!! What a name. What did you call him for short? Dick Dick? Oh my God, Minnie, I have to leave. I can’t stop laughing. Enjoy your visit. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Like this:

“That’s for sure, you old goats. If there is one thing I can say for certain, it is that none of us was born anywhere near yesterday.”

“Tell us. Where in the world have you been?”

“Look. I am telling the truth. I was in the mental hospital. For 6 weeks. And I am a shaky mess. Let me tell you. There are a lot of nuts in there. I was the only normal one. And I wasn’t too sure about that after my first night.”

“What happened?”

“I went to the doctor, for a checkup. Remember? I told you I was hearing voices. So the Doc says, “What do the voices say?” And I said, Well, it depends. I can’t hear out of my right ear. So if I have my left ear covered up, like on the phone, the voices mumble. But if I am listening with my left ear, they are telling me to do some pretty awful things. And after some prodding, I admitted that the voices said things like : Don’t pay your taxes. Drink wine. Eat hot fudge sundaes for breakfast. Stay up late and sneak out of the home and go skinny dipping. Lay down in the snow and make angels. Sing your heart out at piano bars. Wear your old prom dress and go out to dinner. Hang out at the Cracker Barrel gift store. Take bubble baths with your cat. Pretend you are a movie star and wear disguises. Dance on the street. Wear obnoxious hats. You know, stuff like that.”

“Ok. So then what?”

“Well, old Doc says, “What do you think about a little vacation?” Being of unsound mind of course I said yes. And the bugger put me in the mental ward.”

“For what?”

“For having impure thoughts I guess. Anyway, I got to this so called vacation, and the nurses stripped me of everything I had. Money, clothes, my pocket book, even my cigarette lighter. I asked if I could keep my cigs and they said OK, and showed me to my room. I had a room mate. A young girl, who had a strange hair do. She had beads in her hair. Looked ok, but God, were they ever noisy. Every time she turned over, in bed, those beads would clang and I thought it was a fire alarm. Well, I couldn’t sleep, so I wandered into the dining room, and there were a bunch of people in there, just sitting around, not saying a word. I introduced myself and said, Hey anybody got any money? And they said they only had 3 bucks each. That is all they were allowed. So I said, “ Anybody hungry?” And the general consensus was YES. I went to the phone and ordered a few pizzas. I told the Pizza Hut guy, “Just deliver to the mental ward at the St Louis hospital.”

“And?”

“We had a lovely pizza party. We laughed and talked and ate, and had a blast. It was quite nice. I slept on my left ear, so I couldn’t hear the clanging and in the morning wandered out to have breakfast. My doctor was there and asked me if he could speak to me, in private. He was all flushed and visibly upset. He said. “I am so sorry. You were put in the wrong ward. You should have been in the intermediate ward, and you were in with the seriously mentally ill patients. And we intend to move you immediately. But, the problem is more than that. I am concerned that you are getting along far too well with these people.”